


Three Times Beshelar Comforted Cala

by misura



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21833338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: [what it says on the tin]
Relationships: Cala Athmaza/Deret Beshelar
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Three Times Beshelar Comforted Cala

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophiegaladheon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiegaladheon/gifts).



.01

" 'We cannot be your friend,' " Beshelar repeated. He had intended for his tone to be mocking, to make it clear what a ridiculous thing it had been to say. As it had been, he told himself.

To feel friendship for an emperor was of a piece with to feeling sorry for one. Beshelar had no use for such follies, and he disliked seeing it in his partner.

Cala's ears drooped. "I only wanted - "

"Thy desires or wants have no bearing on the matter at all," Beshelar said, this time aiming for stern. In truth, he did not mind needing to be the voice of reason, of rationality and tradition and all the things that held together the world as they knew it. In a partnership, it was all to the good if one half might complement the other. "No more than do his," he added after a moment, in an attempt to soften the blow, to guide them back to a more harmonious state.

"I thought that an I did not speak, it would fall to thee," Cala said.

Beshelar felt his ears twitch. "I would not have spoken aloud something so blatantly obvious to anyone with even a spark of sense."

"No," Cala agreed. "Such was my thought as well. So the task fell to me, and now that I have done with it, I have no wish to speak of it further. It is done. Thou should be content."

_How can I, with thee in such a state?_ Beshelar wondered, but those too were words not to be spoken aloud, even if Cala was as close to him as anyone would ever be.

He sighed, neither knowing nor caring what Cala would make of the gesture, moving to put his arms around Cala and, when that was deemed acceptable, to attempt a kiss, to offer with his body what he could not offer with his words.

.02

"He lives." Beshelar wondered that his voice was audible over the beating of his heart. He could not recall when last he had felt so helpless, so aware of his own limitations. "He lives, Cala. He is well."

In his mind, he had known that he would need to sleep, and eat, and that of necessity, this meant the responsibility of guarding the emperor would sometimes fall to others, yet in his heart, he now realized that he had made the mistake of considering the task his alone, that he had allowed himself to be lured into the belief that so long as he remained steadfast and vigilant, no harm might befall - _canst not think of him by name, as thou would any other man,_ he told himself sternly. _Thou hast failed once already tonight, do not add to thy failure yet more._

"And how little of that is thanks to us?" Cala near-snapped. "We, who did not even see - "

_'twas our own loyalty that blinded us,_ Beshelar thought. For a nohecharis to raise a hand against his emperor - against his partner. _How could we have seen that of which our minds could not even conceive?_ Cala might be frivolous and overly romantic and given to flights of fancy, yet Beshelar knew he would die for him as readily as he would for the emperor.

_And of what use was thy readiness?_ he asked himself, his arms tightening around Cala.

He did not blame Telimezh. That would be unjust. Telimezh's losses were greater than anyone's, and had it not been for Cala, Beshelar might have been with him, trying to offer what comfort he could - _and what wouldst thou tell him, that might lessen his pain in any way?_

Some of the tension went out of Cala's body, though his ears still lay flat.

"He lives," Beshelar repeated, feeling he did not deserve to ask more of Cala, tonight of all nights, even as he longed for a few moments of forgetfulness. "All will be well."

"Nothing is well," Cala said bitterly, and Beshelar decided that while he might not deserve anything of Cala, surely Cala deserved all that Beshelar might offer him, to ease his mind and body, and so there could be nothing selfish in returning Cala's kiss and letting Cala drag him to the bed they had left so recently, and so long ago.

.03

Cala's eyes were too bright, his laughter and smiles holding an edge to them that Beshelar disliked.

"He called thee an incomparable idiot!"

_Was I not one, then?_ Beshelar had dreamt of saving the emperor's life, of course, but it had always been in a suitable, heroic manner, not by landing in his lap and getting blood all over him while someone else dealt with the would-be assassin.

_The task was mine, and I failed. Again._ He felt sick. _Thou made Cala shoulder the burden of thy duties, and him so ill-suited to carry it._

"I am sorry," he said, knowing the words were useless, a means to salve his own conscience.

"For what now? Getting a great big hole in thy arm?" Cala made an airy gesture. " 'twill heal. I will see to it myself that thou dost not overexert thyself and risk worse."

_There is blood on thy hands._ Beshelar did not know how to say this. He knew himself weak, for wanting to keep the illusion of Cala's good cheer, to pretend nothing was wrong.

"I failed thee," he said, by way of a compromise. "I should have been quicker to act." _To kill._

"Are we not partners?" Cala asked. "Where one of us acts the sluggard, the other steps in."

Beshelar winced.

Cala's face fell. "I did not mean - we worked well together, did we not? We saved the emperor's life. We did well. People will tell stories of our deeds on this day."

"I left thee no choice but to take a man's life," Beshelar said. "For that, I wish to apologize to thee, and to beg a chance to make amends, however hopeless and doomed to failure such an undertaking must be."

Cala laughed, the sound brittle. "The emperor spoke truth. Thou art an incomparable idiot. Did I not swear the same oaths as thee? Have we not both been entrusted with the same duty?"

_I saw thy face,_ Beshelar wanted to say. _I can see thou art not as easy as thou would have me believe._ What he said instead was, "The emperor often speaks truth, though not everyone is as happy to hear it."

"Yes," Cala nodded. "It must be considered fortunate that he has such staunch defenders as thee and I. Art in much pain? Is there aught I might do to make thee more comfortable?"

Beshelar scoffed. "A mere scratch."

Cala's laughter sounded more normal now, and softer. "Get thee to bed."

_Only an thou willst accompany me,_ Beshelar thought, but Cala was moving already, so he kept the words to himself.


End file.
